May 24th
by ialwayswantwhaticanthave
Summary: Summary: It was already set up. The date, the time, how he would do it. All Niall Horan needed to do was wait till May 24th.His mom always wanted him to graduate; too bad he wouldnt see anything after. This is is the last time louis tomlinson would be switching schools ever. With his schedual in hand, he makes his way down the hall hoping for a friend. slash: might be a trigger
1. Cheers to Another Year in Hell

(Niall's POV)  
I was sick of it, I knew that that sounded like the typical teenager thing to say but it was true. I was sick of life, those duchebags at school ,and most of all myself. I looked in the mirror and all I saw was everything that the bullies said to me as they punched and kicked me.

_" Look at you. Your worthless!"_

_" No one will ever love a fag like you."_

_" Oh my gosh fatass get up and fight."_

They were all right of course. My hair was a mess, my teeth were crooked, my accent was horrible, I was fat, and most of all no one would love a gay loser. I kept telling myself these things as I purged (threw up) into the toilet. This has been my routine for about 5 years. I would wake up, get ready, eat breakfast,purge , brush my teeth, and then go to school. If I had time I would sit under the big old oak tree in front of the principle's office. It's monitored 24/7 so you imagine why it would be my favorite spot at the hell hole that is FREEDOM HIGH.

(LOUIS'S POV)  
I looked at myself one more time in the mirror. Then headed off to school. This had been my what... 6th school? I didn't get in trouble alot, my mom just gets alot of job transfers. She " promised" me last year that that would be my last school, but nooooo she just had to get transferred AGAIN. UGH who even names their school FREEDOM HIGH anyways?


	2. Just my Fucking Luck

(NIALL'S POV)  
Going to school was hell every day. People would call me names, look at me funny and beat me up. Sometimes I was thankful for the beatings. At least with them I knew that people could see me. Sometimes I feel invisible, so I find myself walking right by a bully on purpose so that I can get tripped or slapped. I feel bad for myself but then I remember that I am worthless. No one wants me. No one even fucking talks to me. I was terrifed of doing something wrong. I feel like if I slip up once, it will stay with me for the rest of my life. It will constantly be one my mind nagging me. It's just another reason to remind people that I'm not perfect. I'm the ugly gay boy who cuts and starves himself.

It's true wherever you heard it from that I cut. It started at summer camp when I had a friend who cut himself. He was bullied at school too and the only way to calm himself down. So when I came home from summer camp I was completely focused that I would take this year by the balls. That year I walked into school with my head held high and I was welcomed by a face plant into the ground and a black eye from the school bully, Harry.

"Hey fag, were gonna have lots of fun this year. Ya? "  
Well we did most defiantly not have fun last year. That night I went on my Facebook and once again was bombarded by insults that were messaged to me. I read all of them while crying silently. I was so enraged, so helpless. Then I remembered my friend and went into my restroom, popped a blade out of my razor and began. I lifted up my sleeve and took the cold sharp piece of metal into my hand. I pressed it to my skin and winced. It took me a while to get used to the pain. But after a while it was a relief to feel the pain; it was nice just to know that I could still feel. So it's true I cut can't live with it; can't live without it.  
I don't think that Harry will be a problem this year though. He was a senior last year so that… oh shit my luck just keeps getting better and better.

"Hey fag, looks like I get one more year with you! Look how lucky are we!" He says as he punches me in the gut. His friends hold me down while he punches me in the face and ouch my balls.

"Ew, gross I bet he liked that!" said one of his friends. Harry smirked and winks at me. Shit, I have a hard on. Worst timing ever! Harry follows my eyes and laughs. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with the embarrassment any longer because Harry sent a flying punch to the bridge of my nose and I blacked out, great. This is a fucking wonderful way to start a new year.


	3. The Missing

(LOUIS'S POV)  
I turned a corner in the labyrinth that was my high school hallway. People seemed pretty friendly. Well if you count death glares and being excluded, then ya pretty god, there was a huge clog right in front of the lockers by the stairs. The sad part is tha it was the exact spot where I freaking needed to go. Dammit, those were the only stairs in school. So I started pushing my way through the crowd. I only had one glance at what was causing all this commotion. There was a bigger curly - haired boy and from what I could tell from behind,he was beating the living shit out of the smaller boy that he was straddling. I would help the poor bloke out, but I don't want to get pulverized too. So instead, I shoved my way to the stairs and made my way up with the faint echos of people shouting "HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!" reverberating off of the walls.

"Louis Tomlinson" droned the teacher.  
"Here" I piped up. Class always started with attendance. I thought it was a drag, but it was a time to let my mind wander. The more time to think the better. So I looked around the class and started putting people into categories based on their appearance. The girl with the purple hair, thick eyeliner and piercings belonged to the scene crowd. The one in all black and a sad look on her face was goth...  
"Niall Horan" said the teacher. I looked around, no answer. The teacher marked him as absent. The class carried on but I couldn't stop thinking about him. Niall Horan, the mysterious missing boy.


	4. Love Letters and Cozy Sweaters

(LOUIS'S POV)

History class was a drag. You see, the bad part about switching schools so often is that each school has a different learning plan. So I either already went over this or I had no idea what we were talking about. I had already went over this topic about 2 times already. It ended soon and my next class was gym. I was pretty athletic; captain of the footie team and rugby team in some schools. I got dressed in my gym uniform and then sat down on the bleachers.

First day and no friends. I've been to a few schools (9 exactly.) So I think I know how this year is going to go. Either I make a lot of friends the first day or I'm alone for the duration of the year. So your thinking, cool, now you don't have any emotional ties to anyone at this school when you go off to college. You've point but your still wrong. when I don't have anyone to talk to, I become a pot of melting emotions. I get sad and angry. I'm not a happy fellow. I just have to face it; I'll be alone for the year. To busy sulking in my own sorrows that I almost didn't see her come sit by me.

"Hey," she said. I looked up at her and thought that maybe she was talking to someone else. But there she was, her big baby blue eyes looking into mine. "I'm Hannah." She was cute. Her hands and legs were impossibly thin and she had a small frame. Her golden hair was pulled up into a high messy bun that sat on top of her head. Her semi tanned face was showing that she was losing interest. "Heloooo? Now's the time where you say your name." she said while nudging me with her elbow. Sassy, I like it.

"Oh, um Louis." I said shyly

"So Louis are you new here?" she said taking a seat besides me.

I was getting really annoyed with her nosiness,"Look," I said glaring at her,"if you came over here just to push into my business..."

"No," she said quietly," I was in your place lat year. Except for the first week I had five so-called friends who eventually stabbed me in the back."

I immediately snapped out of my self centeredness,"Oh I'm sorry."

"So I understand if you don't want any friends than that's okay, but can you at least pretend to be my friend." she almost whispered.

"Hannah," I said looking into her eyes," I hope I can do more than just pretend."

Her eyes lit up at that and smiled,"Really?"

"Really." sass intertwining into my voice.

She squealed and then gave me an interjetic hug."So, friends?" so friends she said hopefully.

"Friends." I said with a brisk nod.

I was happy to be Hannah's friend. She told me that she likes toms, big sweaters, skinny jeans and shirts that said love sucks and inspirational quotes. It made sense because that was exactly what she was wearing. A gray sweatshirt with a big black heart on it, grey worn in skinny jeans, and pink toms. She was not only pretty, but also very smart. I liked that. She wasn't pretending to be dumb to look cute. Her background is heartbreaking really. She was dared to put a love letter in her crush's locker on valentine's day. Her crush,who I later found out who later was Harry.( Does he sound familiar? That's because he's who was beating the crap out of the kid in the hall earlier in the morning.)

Little did she know that he was in on it and when he found it he didn't just show it to everyone. He posted it all over the internet, made copies, posted it everywhere at school, and to top it all off he even went up to her and recited it to is how the letter went:

I'm broken do you hear me?  
I'm blinded cause your everything I see.  
I'm dancing alone.  
I'm praying that your heart will just turn around.  
If I'm louder,  
would you see me?  
Would you lay down,  
in my arms and rescue me?  
'Cause we are the same.  
You save me,  
when you leave  
it's gone again.  
Why don't you notice me?  
Just tell me that I'm the only one for you  
I'm already yours  
xx Hannah

Then when he finished he said and I quote,'Why would I go out with an ugly cow.' ( I didn't get this cause Hannah was neither fat nor ugly) after she told me that, I wanted to rip harry's arrogant head off. Then when she tried to sit with her "friends" at lunch they told her that they didn't let fat ugly bitches to sit with them. So that lunch she spent the rest of the day in the bathroom crying. She stopped eating and eventually smiling. She told me that today was the first time in a while that she smiled. I was almost in tears when she finished. I gave her a big hug as she we went to lunch.

She hadn't eaten anything yet, which bothered me but my mind drifted to other things,"So who's this Niall Horan guy, cause he wasn't here today."

"Yes he was."

"No he wasn't. Unless he cut class."

"No he didn't cut. He's in the nurse's office. I took him there. I would know." she said sensing my doubting.

"Why is he in the nurse?"

"Harry."

"Oh my gosh that was him? Is he okay."

"Ya. So you know everything about me but I don't know anything about you."

I told her about my schools and my mom and my home life. " I'm bi." I said looking up from my food to check her expression.

"I know."

"Wait what?"

"No completely strait guy would miss a fight to go to class without giving it a second glance. Then ask about it later." she glanced up at me," Plus your jeans." she said with a small smile.

I pouted,"Whats wrong with them?"

"You are the only person I know that can pull of that tight of skinny jeans." she burst out laughing.

"But they show off my butt." I said glumly and looked down at my butt.

"While we're on that topic, let me just say that your but gives all the people here a run for their money."

"Laugh all you want, but you have no idea how many people I have gotten because of my butt."

"Yes! Truly a gift from God!" She said on the verge of hysterical tears.

I winked at her cheekily and that sent both of us into a fit of laughter. After it died down I got serious,"Hannah?"

"Yes, Lou?"

"Do you still eat?"

"My mom put me on a special diet to gain weight, but the truth is that I don't want to eat. It disgusts me. I feel that if I eat that I just give everyone else a reason to call me fat. I already feel huge and if I gain weight," she said sniffling,"no one will ever, ever love me."

I took her shaking hands into mine and said,"Hannah, take it from a half of a straight guy. There will be a guy that you will meet who will come along and love every bit of you and not just because your beautiful but because your smart and brilliant. And Hannah?"

"Yes, Lou?" she said with watery eyes.

"The only part of you that could ever be huge is your heart; trust me."

"For some reason I fee like I could trust you."

"That's cause you can."

From then on out we promised to keep each others secrets and to always tell each other everything. We were two peas in a pod. I mean sure she was fit but I cared about her too much to date her. So we were more like brother and sister.

Throughout lunch I babied her, feeding her carrots like airplanes or chu-chu trains.

"Hannah?"

"Yes, Lou?"

"Are you full?"

"Yes."

"Hannah..." I said eyeing her.

"Fine, guess I'm still a little hungry."

"That's my girl." I said as I put my arm around her. It wasn't awkward. It felt familiar, like I had done this for the past two years. It seems that in that lunch period we clicked. Our eyes, filled with each others secrets, had silent conversations. For some reason, I just knew that I was supposed to be here, with Hannah.

"Hannah?"

"Yes, Lou?" This had kinda become our trademark thing.

"Can you try eating, for me?"

"I'll try."

This was my first friend and I planned on staying with her for a long, long time. That was until I heard a haunting voice.

"Hannah, love, getting over me so soon?"

We turned around and I stepped in front of Hannah. Because standing right before was the king of the douchebags himself, Harry Edward fucking Styles.

Shit.


	5. Close Your Legs They're Not a Door

(LOUIS'S POV)

She turned me around so I could look into her pleading eyes. "Louis, listen to me. You have to go now, okay?" she said, barely whispering the last sentence.

"No, I'm not going to leave you here with him."

"He isn't going to hurt me, but if you stay here there is a huge possibility that he will beat you down. I just got a best friend; I don't want to lose you." she said wiping her eyes.

"No, Hannah."

"You have to go now, Lou. You have to go to the cafeteria where everyone else is. He won't try to find you there. I'll see you next class."

"No." I said shaking my head.

"Lou, I can't get better without my friend. If you ever want me to get better, then you have to go."

I wanted her to forget Harry, to walk with me down that hall , but most of all I wanted to go up to Harry and punch him in the face, but I didn't do any of that. Because as much as I wanted Hannah to be safe, I also wanted her skinny little frame to be healthy and happy. She couldn't do that if I wasn't there to support her.

So as much as my mind screamed at me to go back to her, my heart told me to hang in there. I ended up doing exactly as Hannah said. I walked into a populated place with students still in cliques, eating lunch. I sat down at an empty table and thought about what just happened.

Hannah seemed like she knew what she was doing. She really actually had a point. Harry wouldn't hit her. As much of a jerk that he is, no guy would risk his reputation by hitting on the ladies, literally. I knew that he wasn't going to hit her but the one on one time with him would kill her more emotionally that physically.

Somehow my mind drifted from Hannah to hitting to getting hurt to Niall, my mystery boy. I wondered if he was okay. Maybe I'll just go to the nurse's office, and pretend that I have a headache. So she'll give me Advil and I'll just nonchalantly look over at Niall. I'll ask how he's doing and then I'll have finally see him. Bing bam boom babies. The f... Lou, man get yourself together.

I wonder if I can go to the nurse to find out what's wrong with my screwed up head.

(HANNAH'S POV)

Watching Lou have a battle with himself and then quickly walking to the cafeteria was the saddest thing that I have ever seen him do. I wiped the tears from my eyes and pulled myself together."Common, loser. I don't want people to see me talking to you." he said haughtily

"Thanks so much, Haz. Means so much." I retorted, rolling my eyes.

Behind the school I sat down on the ground and Harry looked at me unamused."Look, your brother, when he left he told me to look out for you," I scoffed at him," and I'm just going to tell you right out that something isn't right with your new boyfriend."

"He isn't my boyfriend. He is my friend. In fact the first one since.. since you know." and then he giggled the fucking duechebag giggled! Out of all the people who my brother knew; he had to ask Harry to look after me while he was of fighting in the army.

My brother had always been my savior. He would take me to the movies when I was sad and he would make cookies with me when I was feeling alone. He always knew when I was in a bad mood. My brother wasn't really good at academics, so when he graduated he signed up for the army. I write to him every day, but most of the time I'm stuck wondering if he is still alive. It's part of the reason I'm always so depressed; it's cause I'm just always so alone.

"Friend or not," he said interrupting my thoughts,"You can't see him or I'll make it my personal objective to make every single day living hell for him. He grinned triumphantly when I didn't reply.

Little did he know that I was using that time to let my anger boil up inside of me." No, you look and understand this, you will NOT tell me who to hang out with." I said, thrusting my pointed finger against his chest as I fiercely looked into his eyes."You will NOT pretend that you are doing such a good favor by what you so call looking out for me." I proclaimed while belligerently jabbing my finger once more, eyes still locked."And if you EVER wanted to lookout for me, you would have stayed the hell away."

I walked back into school with my head held high; tears threatening to dance down my face. Rushing into the bathroom, I looked into the mirrors. What a mess! I wiped my running mascara, in frantic attempt to calm myself down. I did a quick look to see if any of the stalls were filled. Nope, okay good. I started my get-it-together pep talk. "People love you. You have Louis. You have mom. You have Daniel. You are beautiful." I said this over and over until it became one huge word. I took deep breaths untill my face became clear and my eyes became emotionless. I was okay until I heard a flush from one of the stalls way in the back. Oh no, please don't let it be... dammit.

As much as I didn't want her here, there she was. Standing before me was the queen bitch. "Hey loser." said my ex best friend, Emily. You remember my story, ya well she was one of those girls who gave me that dare. After she totally dumped me as a friend, she became a total slut. Don't get me wrong she was beautiful. Thick black hair that was perfectly straight. perfect fair complection, super skinny and ridiculously tall even without her heels. Today she wore a low-cut Vneck tucked into a tight short pencil skirt with leggings and boot heels, not to mention her five pounds of makeup and countless jingely jewelry. If that didn't spell whore than you could use slut or even lady of the night. Like, Jesus, this girls boobs were practically jumping out of her shirt.

Now after she became an absolute slut, she started going out with Harry Styles. Not to mention ,ouch, that hurt.

"FYIs," she said with a rude look at me,"Your mom has to love you. Its kinda necessary, even for you. Louis is to good to last. An ass like that doesn't belong with a face like yours. And I'm not even sure how a hottie like Daniel could be related to something like you." Looking me up and down she said,"BTWs if you're wondering who spread all those rumors about you, I started them." she said with a bitchy smile.

"Well, I'm glad that you found a hobby that involves spreading something besides your legs." I said returning her bitch smile.

"You better watch your mouth!"

"You better watch your pregnancy test!" I said while walking out of the room.

Nothing like a good catfight to but me in a cheerful mode.


	6. The Aftermath

(LOUIS'S POV)

Following the signs, I mustered up the strength to go into the nurse's office. The bright room was decorated with motivational posters and was setup with a desk on the left wall, three cots on the right wall with chairs beside them. I walked over to the cheerful middle-aged woman, whom I'm presuming was the nurse. "Excuse me Mrs.…."

"Amelio," she said with a smile.

"Amelio. My name's Louis Tomlinson. I have a migraine." I said grimacing and lightly putting my hand on my head. What can I say, I'm a good actor.

"I can give you a Tylenol if your parents signed a waiver."

"I think they did." I said mixing a little confusion into my voice.

"Okay, Hun, hang in there a second. Why don't you go sit next to Niall over there while I look in your files." She said pointing over at a very broken boy sleeping on the cot. When I sat down by him, she unlocked the files under her desk and began digging through them.

"What happened to him," I said with genuine concern in my voice.

"The person who brought him in said he tripped down the stairs. But, he's been in here so much that I know better." she said sympathetically. I looked next to me. There lay Niall, bruised and beaten. You would've been a fool if you believed that he fell down stairs. Cause if he did, it was one hell of a flight. His ankle was wrapped and his lip was busted open. The worn-in polo and jumper couldn't hide the bruises that littered his neck and face.

He looked so peaceful and vulnerable in his sleep. His hair was styled sloppily, but it worked. His cheeks were a pink and his mouth was slightly agape. Niall was on his side (facing me), arms crossed, and knees bent in a fetal position. Mrs. Amelio's voice interrupted my thoughts," Your waiver must be with your medical records in the main office. Wait here, I'll be right back."

As she walked out of the room, I sighed. It got oddly quiet as I waited for her return. I turned my attention back to Niall. You could tell that he had died his hair blond; his roots were still a very, very light brown. You could only tell if you looked closely; it looked cute anyways. His bottom lip started trembling and a small whimper escaped him. I was startled as he desperately whispered, still sleeping," Don't hit me; it hurts so much. Please, it's not my fault."

"It's not your fault." I barely whispered," You never did anything wrong." I couldn't help comforting him. Even though I'm new, I could tell a school punching bad when I see one. It wasn't his fault he was smaller, weaker. Let me get this straight. When I see someone hurting, I make it my responsibility to make it better. I just can't help it.

He started shaking violently, "Harry, I can't breathe. Stop please." he said louder. Oh my God, what have they done to him?

"Shhh, it's okay." I said in a soothing voice.  
His eyes barely peeked open, and then he flipped over to his other side. Then went back to sleep. Good, I was afraid that he had heard my desperate attempts to calm him down.

Just then Mrs. Amelio came in with some Tylenol and a glass of water, "Here," she said with a reassuring smile.

"Thanks," I said. I didn't want to hurt the poor woman's feelings by telling her it was a miracle that the migraine passed. That was my original plan so I tounged the pill and spit it into my hand as I walked outside of her office. I threw it away as I passed a garbage can. I was pretty shaken by my first encounter with Niall. But a question still lingered in my mind. 'What had they done to him?'

(NIALL'S POV)

I had the alley dream again. I gave up on calling them nightmares after I realized that I was no longer having dreams. So I assumed that these were my "happy dreams", the ones that I die in. Anyways, the alley dream is a reoccurring one. I already had this one about 5 times. Each time I was equally scared. Harry and his 3 or 4 close friends chased me and follow me into an alley. To my despair it was a dead-end. They closed in on me like a wild pack of dogs. Harry punched me in the gut and I fell to the ground. His friends would hold down my legs and arms. Harry straddled my chest, with one hand he would clench my throat and the other would beat the absolute shit out of me. For each punch, he shouted an insult at my face.

"You're worthless." He sends one flying to my right cheek.

"No one wants you." This one broke my nose.

"You don't deserve anything better than this." This time I felt my lip swelling and the taste the taste of blood quickly flooded my mouth.

"You're disgusting." Ouch. Thanks.

"Fatass." No shit Sherlock, my fingers don't go down my throat every morning for nothing I thought, feeling my right eye swell.

"This is all your fault." Now that one hurt. My mindset was always that everything was their fault and that it was just their screwed up heads. Was it really all my fault? He really didn't need to hit me because this one already broke my heart.

"Please," I pleaded," don't hit me." He smirked at my desperateness and punched me in the jaw. "It hurts so much. Please," I said in tears now." s'not my fault." He just laughed. This is usually where the dream ends. Harry usually ends my misery there and leaves me to bleed to death.

But not this time. When Harry was right about to finish me off, everything froze. I heard a voice. It wasn't razor-sharp that made your spine shiver and wish you were dead. It was soft like caramel and it filled me with warm, happy thoughts. It said, "It's not your fault. You never did anything wrong."

Then everything played. My happiness was all too short. Harry instead choked me to death. "Harry, I can't breathe. Stop, please."

His cold hard green eyes morphed into icy blue ones and as my last few seconds of trying to fight back, he just whispered in the caramel voice that I heard before, "Shhh, it's okay." My vision went black then.

I woke up to the sound of the nurse calling my mum, a sound that I was unfortunately used to. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Horan. We can't do anything about your son being picked on at school. The only other option is for him to transfer."

I could hear my mum's loud protests on the other end of the line. The only other school close to here is St. Mary's Private Catholic High. We absolutely did not have the money for a private school. Plus, we all know that Catholic, rich kids picked on gays more than regular people did.

Two years ago, when people found out I was gay, a kid wearing a St. Mary's Private Catholic High uniform on came up to my screaming at me something about Jesus not loving me and worshiping the devil. Well, you can imagine that I was a little thinner the next day and my arms and legs were a little more delicate.  
I might have passed out from loss of blood that night, but that would have been one of many times. So many times I wake up on the bathroom floor, arms and thighs covered with dried blood. When I wake up, I'm usually also still clenching onto the rust-colored razor for dear life. I used to get up, looking at myself in the mirror and not recognizing the monster I've become. The sad thing is that now, when I wake up I don't feel anything, not one damn thing. I just get into the shower with painfully searing hot water and I scrub my arms and legs till they're raw.

It's also sad how my mom hasn't noticed how I have worn long sleeves for the past two years, or the way I either ate everything or nothing at all. She is just so wrapped up in her own little world. I'll never forget the day that I came home with a gash on my head and a sling on my arm.

**+Flashback+**

She swayed drunkenly into my room yelling, "Niall, you always get beat up. Stop being such a twat. You know how this makes me look? Not freaking great I tell you that! I'm the mom of the gay wimp. Did you want this to happen to me? Well congradufuckinglations."

Regardless of the silent tears streaming down my face, she waltzed into her room, whiskey bottle in hand. She always found a way to make things about her. Needless to say I lost 3 pounds that night and I woke up bloodily on the bathroom floor…. again.

**+Flashback over+**

My thoughts were interrupted by a voice, "You awake? You were out a long time." I tried to sit up, "You might get a headache if you move too quickly after a long sleep like that. Here take this."

She helped me sit up slowly and handed me a Tylenol. I was about to say no just as my head started pounding." Thanks, "I said taking the pill and washing it down with water," wait what class am I in ?" Ya, I've been in here so many times that she started to memorize my schedule.

"Theology." I had decided to take theology as an extra credit class. I know ironic, right? The gay learning about religion. I wanted to take it because I still have the hope that at least one person was looking out for me. Even if I couldn't see him. Anyways, I was pretty good at the subject, so I guess that was a reason to take it four years in a row, too. Theology was my last class of the day, so I had perfect timing.

"What exactly got hurt," I said apprehensively.

"You have a black eye, a minor concussion, a busted lip and a broken ankle. Apparently someone stepped on it." she said with a grimace.

"I've had worse," I said smiling sadly.

"That's what bothers me."

"Don't worry, only one more year."

"That just means that if you get beat up at a Uni, I can't make you better."

"Mrs. A, I think you are the closest person I have to a friend. Thanks."

"Stay out of trouble, Niall."

"I'll try Mrs. A."


	7. Are You Happy?

(LOUIS'S POV)

'Calm down Louis, she'll be here.' I chanted to myself inside my head. It had been about 20 minutes since I left the nurses office. I was in English class freaking out how Hannah wasn't back. Our English teacher, Ms. Pond, was starting the lesson at the front of the class. She introduced herself to me before the period started. She said and I quote, "I'm very nice if you don't get into trouble. Just be good and I won't snap your neck like a twig." Honestly, she really scares me. Her personality doesn't match her appearance when she gets angry. When she is happy she smiles and laughs like a normal 28-year-old should. Ms. Pond is still really young and pretty. At lunch after Hannah left me, I heard a bunch of jocks talking about her body. I mean seriously, she is our teacher and engaged might I add! I saw a huge ring on her finger and when I asked about it she showed me a picture of him. Let me just say that damn he is hot. I mean like hotter than Daniel Radcliffe. So what? I used to have a thing for him. But didn't we all?

Sighing I started drawing squares on my paper. I looked at Ms. Pond to make an effort to at least pretend like I was paying attention. "Maybe I should actually pay attention," I thought, looking up at the board. Nope, it was diagraming complex sentences. I've been there, done that, and now she's making me go back. See why I hate new schools?

"Where the hell could she be?" I thought as possible scenarios clouded my mind. She could have been raped. She could have died. She could be in a trash can somewhere. She's probably alone crying. She probably needs me. What if she was wrong about Harry and he beat her up. What if he….." my thoughts were interrupted by a click of the door. I held my breath as my eyes flew to the front in a desperate search for Hannah. I exhaled deeply when her familiar small frame walked through the door.

Ms. Pond ran her fingers through her deep auburn hair and said arching one of her eyebrows," Hannah, glad you could join us."

"Sorry, Mrs. Pond. It won't happen again." she said gloomily.

"See me after class."

A few of the jocks smiled at this. I was taken aback by how cruel this school was. Hannah looked as if her puppy had just died when someone whispered, "The fatass is probably going to go write some more love letters."

Her puffy eyes shined with unshed tears. If I could have said something to those douchebags, I would. But I think that if I said something, I'd just make it worse. I just made eye contact with her and mouthed are you okay and she nodded. The rest of class flew bye. I was too distracted by trying to cheer up Hannah.  
"Louis, can you wait for me outside?" she asked, jutting out her lower lip.

I scoffed at her puppy dog face, which was actually quite adorable. "Sure." I replied smiling. I took one last look at Hannah before I opened the door and took a step out into the crowded hallway.

(HANNAH'S POV)

Let me get this straight, Ms. Pond is very intimidating when she wants to be. One time last year, she made the old rugby captain cry. So needless to say, when she called me after class I was very scared. _'She can't hurt me though, she's a teacher. She would lose her job if she hit me.'_ Was all that was running through my mind as I walked up to her desk. "You wanted to talk to me?" I said quietly looking at my shoes.

"Hannah, I believe that you have a story about your high school experience. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Could you write it?"

"If you wanted me to."

"Could you read it at graduation?"

"If I have to."

"You do."

"Then I guess I can. What is the outline?"

"It has to be true. If you leave anything true out of it and I know that you left it out. I'll make sure that you never, ever get into a college outside of the one here."

That scared me. Collage was one of my only tickets out of this hell of a town. My mom said that if I can't get a full ride from a uni somewhere else, then I'd have to go to the one in town. "You don't have to worry about that. Can I use a visual aide?"

"Just one, you have to keep this between me and you."

"Okay and Ms. Pond, why do you want me to speak at graduation?"

"Why would anyone besides my best student do it?" she said giving me a warm smile.

"Thanks," I said returning her a nervous one.

"Hannah, I'm very observant. If you ever want to talk than you know you can always come talk to me."

"Thanks."

_Does she know about my anorexia?_ I walked hastily out of the classroom

"What did she say?" questioned Louis as I met up with him.

"Oh, she was just telling me not to be late again." I lied smoothly, keeping in mind that Ms. Pond wanted to keep it a secret.

"Oh, okay."

"Well see you later; my mum's picking me up."

"Bye." He said walking to his house. Our school was placed in a pretty well off part of town. His house must be nice.

Outside, my mum was waiting for me in her car. She started picking me up when people started making fun of me. She was afraid people were going to beat me up. It was always so easy to spot her. She and I were so different, personality wise. All I want to do is blend and disappear and she couldn't stand out more if she tried. Her cherry red Lamborghini Murciélago could have been spotted from a mile away. I mean seriously! Ignoring the stares from my fellow school mates, I put my bag in the front trunk and opened the huge up swinging beetle doors. "Hey." I said

"Hey, Sugar, how was school?" my mum asked in a really fake southern accent. Sometimes her being an American model gets annoying. She thinks that she can pull of an American accent. I glared at her mentally saying it's not working.

"I could totally pull it off!" she said returning to her all natural Britt voice. "Anyways, first day back! How was it? Did u make any friends?" she asked energetically as we stopped at a red light. I nodded and she squealed. "Oh my goodness, what's her name?"

"HIS name is Louis."

"Ooooo is he cute?"

"No, I mean yes but it's not like that. We're more like… we just ugh."

"I see so he's more like your brother than he'd ever be your boyfriend."

"Exactly!"

"What does he look like?"

"Well," I explained to her about his hair and slightly tanned face, his girly butt and his ferocious love for carrots. I told her about all his schools. I pretty much told her everything …. well I left out the part about him being Bi and that he knew everything about me.

"He sounds like a very nice young man. I want to meet him. How about you invite him for dinner?"

"Okay."  
When we got home, I grabbed my phone and put in Lou's number. He gave it to me today. Right now it was littered up and down my arm. I called it and as soon as he picked up, I asked him if he wanted to eat dinner with us. "Um can we do it tomorrow?" he asked. It sounded like he had been crying.

"Why, Lou? Are you okay?"

"I have something going on. Bye." He said that was weird, there goes not keeping secrets. I'll ask him tomorrow.

"Mom," I sugar-coated it as I called down the stairs, "Lou said that he can't tonight to would love to tomorrow."

I went back into my room, closed the door, and sat down at my mahogany desk. I got out a little stack of paper. I knew that I couldn't stop until I get it absolutely perfect, that's why I was a good writer. "Might as well get started." I said to myself. Soon I had crumbled papers littering my desk as I wrote one failing speech after another. "This better be one hell of a speech."

An hour passed then two, then three. I had still not come up with a decent idea when my phone started buzzing. I checked the caller it was Lou. Why would he be calling at this time? I answered and that's when I heard it. It was the first time I heard Lou cry.

(NIALL'S POV)

After a painful walk back to my house in crutches, I was about ready to pass out. When I entered the front door, I realized that my mum had already done that. After guiding her to her bed and tucking her in, I hopped up the stairs.

Once I was in my room, I started my homework. I had to make an extra trip around the school to get my missed work from all the classes I didn't go to. My curiosity got the best of me after a few hours and I went on Facebook. Opening my messages, I made a gurgling, choking sound in the back of my throat. There were almost a hundred messages. There was always a lot of commotion after someone really got me good. I can guarantee that almost every single one of them was hate. I would know; I went through every one of them. I read every insult, every hurtful word, every twisted emotion, I read all of them. I always do. I thrive in their wickedness and feed off of all of their nasty comments.

My attention was especially attracted to one from Ed, one of Harry's group. It said:

_Dear Niall,_

_ You're pathetic. No one cares about you. We all loved when Harry beat the shit out of you. I hope you get beat up every day. You deserve it, fag. I thought you killed yourself last summer. Everyone was disappointed when you walked into school this morning. Just do us all a favor and die. It's not our fault you're gay and weak. It's all your fault. We just point it out._

I started thinking about his words. Those ugly, ugly words are the reason I hate myself more and more each day. They're the reason that I have to wear pants and longs sleeved shirts every day. They're the reason my ribs and bones stick out of my body. But still my mind believes their words and whispered to me,"_ He's right, you know. It's all your fault, you could have been better. You act like you didn't do anything wrong. No one would really care if you offed yourself. Sure they would be sad for like what, a day? Then you would be all but an empty desk and locker. A new kid might come to the school and ask about you. They saw you on the telly. The rest of the kids wouldn't be able to recall what you would usually wear, what you told them your favorite color was in eighth grade. You would sooner be nothing than something in this school. All you have to do is do one little favor for them. You just have to jump."_

My mind knew me better than anyone ever will. It had already flooded mental pictures of the ocean my dad would bring me to. There were mountains all around there. I remembered that my dad brought me to a cliff that made a sheer drop into the oceans. I guess I could just float down from there into the cold ocean. Just in case the rocks didn't kill me first, I could always drown. There were big swells in May. They would always crash into the rocks, making a cold mist. Yes, I could tie blocks to my ankles. I would never come back up; no one would ever find me. I'll just simply disappear. I smiled crazily to myself as I walked to the bathroom to spend some "quality time" with my metallic best friend.

(LOUIS' POV)

A huge smile lit up my face as I walked through the front door. Two of my little sisters, Daisy and Phoebe, ran to me. I picked both of the little eight year olds up and swung them around. My other sister Lottie came up to me. The fourteen year old pursed her lips and said skeptically," What's got you in such a good mood?"

I smiled at her and practically dragged her upstairs. Lottie was practically my saving grace in this family. She is the only one who can keep a secret in this freaking family. She was the first one who knew I was Bi. She was really supportive. When we got to my room, I pushed her in with me and locked the door. "I made a friend." I said smiling.

"God," she said, "I wonder what's going to happen when you start going out with someone. What's his name?"

"Her name is Hannah."

"Pull her up!" she said pointing at my computer. I opened it and put in my password. I live in a house of four girls, I'm not a saint, and I don't want them looking at my history. I went to Facebook and pulled up Hannah. The picture did her justice. Just like all girls, their profile pictures looked amazing. Her hair was

down and she was wearing a undress. I guess this happened before you know….that.

"Oh my gosh, she's gorgeous." said Lottie.

"I keep trying to tell her that." I mumbled.

I heard the front door open and Daisy and Phoebe calling Mum. Guess she's back from work early. "Hi gals," I heard Mum say, "where's Louis?" Oh no did I do something wrong? "Louis!" she called.

I walked downstairs and gave her a hug and asked her why she was here so early. "I need you to come with me somewhere."

"Okay… let me get my phone."

I walked up to my room got my phone and climbed into the car with Mum. The car ride was very awkward. We ended up arriving at the St. Lawrence Hospital. What the Hell was I doing here? My mum dragged me out of the car and into the main lobby. She told me to go sit in one of the chairs while she talked the front desk. When she sat back down I asked her why I was here. "They found your father." No they can't have found him. They can't. After he left Mum he ran, never to come back. Anger boiled up deep inside of me. He was never there for me when I needed him, and now that I was actually happy he wanted to come back.

My phone started buzzing and I answered the unknown number. "I have to take this," I growled at my mum. I ran outside just as angry tears started forming in my eyes. My throat was closing and getting restricted when I tapped the answer button.

"Hey, do you want to come over to my house to eat. My mum wants to meet you." It was Hannah.

"Um can we do it tomorrow?" I barely choked out.

"Why, Lou, are you okay?" she said concerned.

"I have something going on. Bye." I said, ending the call. I managed to stop myself from crying and went

back inside. "So why am I here?" I asked Mum.

"He tried to O.D. and was sent here. I was called and when I visited, he wouldn't stop asking where you were. I told him I'd bring you next time."

The nurse called Troy and my mom patted my back. I looked at her incredulously, "Aren't you coming with me?"

Shaking her head she told me that there was only one visitor allowed at a time. I followed one of the nurses to the back and entered what must have been my dad's room. There lay a man who used to have movie star good looks, who could have been my role model. But those looks were replaced with the unkempt appearance that comes with being a heroin addict. His veins popped out of his arms and his breathing was rugged. The nurse said," He's asleep so don't wake him up."

I took a chair and pulled it up to his bed. Even though he couldn't hear me, I didn't know when the next time I'll see him will be. So I thought, "Eh what the hell, let's talk."

"Dad," I whispered, "I haven't seen you in a while now. You left me. I remember the night crystal clear. I was only eight, but the way I remember it, it could have been yesterday. I still think it's my fault you know, I woke up Mum to ask her where you were. I was just so worried. I didn't know that she would make you leave, I swear I didn't know!" I was barely talking. Most of the words were caught in the back of my throat. "You could of at least called," I said sobs shaking down my body. I started breathing faster and my anger quickly escalated, "You could have told me you were alive. I spent almost every night up until four o' clock in the morning for a year waiting for you to come home. I spent most of my life wondering what I did to make you not want to come back. I was eight! You can't do that to and eight years old! I tried drugs to forget about you! Are you happy? ARE YOU HAPPY?" I started screaming through my tears.

When the nurse called security, I was already running to the bathroom. I leaned against the cooling white tile wall and slowly slid down it. Bringing my feet up to my chest, tears shook my body. I took my phone out and dialed the only one person who might know how to help. I brought the phone up to my ear, still sobbing. Hannah answered immediately she waited for me to stop crying and said softly, "Lou, what's wrong?"

I sniffed and said between the sobs, "I need help."


End file.
